


First and Final

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-25
Updated: 2006-07-25
Packaged: 2019-01-19 05:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12404007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Has Luna Lovegood written her first and last correct article?





	First and Final

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

 She had found the broken lock on her desk drawer, but let it go, suspecting a too-curious house elf. She didn’t check for missing papers. She didn’t realize that the dangerous folder lurked broodingly in black-gloved hands. Black-gloved hands that were shaking with rage. Had she checked, she would still have had no way of knowing that this was her spouse’s handiwork, and that she had been right…for the first and final time.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Luna Lovegood was running frantically through the maze of alleys behind her flat in Glasgow.

  _Just go Luna…he doesn’t have a chance of finding you back here._

A sudden spark of orange light flew at uncharted speeds over her left shoulder.

_Or maybe he does…_

The salty, burning tears began to stream down her face again, causing her hair to stick to her cheeks in unattractive clumps. Her sobs caught in her throat, and she realized she was short of breath. As she rushed to inhale, her feet landed directly on an oil slick and her 22-year-old body threatened to topple over completely. 

“You won’t last much longer like this, Loon.”

The voice of the man she once loved. Her very own husband. How could he? After all they had been through. As memories of happiness rushed through her mind, a tumultuous boom resounded from behind her. She was suddenly thankful that she had been able to put most of her Muggle neighborhood in a frozen state of time, oblivious to this battle of magic. 

_Or what would be a battle if I had my wand._

A second boom rang out and the vibration caused by it knocked her off her bare, cut feet. She fell face-forward, tucking in her peach robes as she rolled behind a group of dustbins. She went into the fetal position and hoped that the blanket of night would be enough to seclude her. The predator’s footsteps could be heard now, and tried to conceal her agitated breathing. A single tear leaked from her right eye as the footsteps passed. Pure, unadulterated, silence.   


Suddenly, a large hand grabbed onto a fair amount of her tangled hair. She was pulled into the air, still with her back to her attacker. As she gasped in pain, she heard a familiar laugh. 

“Thought you could escape me, my darling? Fat chance.”

Her threw her onto the ground in a pathetic pile of witch and garment. He chortled again and raised his wand.

“ _Crucio!_ ”

She cried out, her body spasmodically seizing and rising from the trash-covered ground. He lifted his wand and allowed her some breathing time.

“ _Crucio!_ ”   


This time she began foaming at the mouth, clutching at her neck as if trying to strangle herself. He lifted his wand again.

“Attempting to end your own misery? You caused me to do this to you! Perhaps you should have halted your loose tongue to begin with. _Crucio!_ ”

Yet another display of pain, after which a white mask displaying a gruesome skull was thrown to the ground. That angular face…those near-violet eyes…they confirmed the fears that she had wished untrue all along. He had been in her private cabinets, and found the message that she so needed to send to the world in another one of her famous Glasgow Magi-Times editorials. She mustered up all the strength she could, but her words still emerged a strangled whisper.

“Blaise…”

A throaty cackle shot from the evildoer above her.

“No one will learn of our little secret after this, you sneaky bint. _Avada kedavra!_ ”

Her eyes widened as the green light neared her face, and then came the eternal black, the eternal midnight that was .

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

The biting wind whipped past the face of the Auror chosen for the job. All he had been told by Mad-Eye was that “Lovegood had trouble.” To “go investigate”.

_Probably her scum husband, Zabini._

He landed harshly on the roof of ensian-looking tenement. Entering the green metal door, he dashed down eight flights of stairs to reach Flat E-7. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the copper doorknob.

“ _Alohomora_.”

He quickly braced himself and pushed open the door. No spell would ever be able to dispense of that horrible scene. He was too late. Kneeling down, he fixed a wayward strand of and adjusted the orangey robes. He picked up the piece of paper beside her, the top of which was emblazoned with “BLAISE ZABINI : MY HUSBAND, THE EATER” by Luna Lovegood.

Auror Colin Creevey let out a bestial moan of agony as he stood over the only woman he had ever loved, holding the only accurate article she had ever written. 


End file.
